


Figure-Eights

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Belly Dancing, Blow Jobs, HEHEHEHEHHE, Hand Jobs, M/M, daddy tummies out the wazoo, daddy tummy, maybe the second chapter will be smut, maybe this will have two chapters, smut now, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you telling me that you took belly dancing classes?” Beverly’s mouth fell open. Will nodded, flush from embarrassment but drunk enough to not be bothered by it.</p><p>The team goes out for a drink, with Hannibal tagging along as DD, and some sharing happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haanigram](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haanigram/gifts).



> my first fic, what life is this
> 
> inspired by the fact that Hugh Dancy knows how to belly dance and there is a mighty need for this according to the fandom  
> and i tried to track down the flippin thing where Dancy says he can belly danc(y)e but i can't so I'M SORRY

It was rare for a case to go well, even rarer for Will to actual celebrate something, but tonight was a night of exceptions.

The ‘killer’ the team had been tracking for the last week had actually kept his victims alive in a crawlspace, meaning the body count was a miraculous zero. This prompted Bev, Price, and Zeller to extend an invitation for drinks to Will and, with a conscience unburdened by murder, he accepted.

“If you are thinking of drinking in excess tonight, good Will, might I offer my services as a designated driver?” Hannibal asked.

“You don’t have to pussyfoot around it, Doc – you can come, too,” Beverly had responded before Will had a chance to say anything.

And that’s how they’d ended up in a booth at a nearly-empty dive bar, where Beverly was trying to keep a handle on her boys on one side while Hannibal and Will sat on the other side, Will with his hand curled around a bottle of cheap beer. Hannibal noticed Will’s cheeks were rosy, from alcohol and maybe a sliver of happiness. Hannibal’s own glass held nothing but water, but even he had to admit that the night was pleasantly relaxing.

“I’m just saying, fingerprints are just a small part of solving any case,” Zeller said.

“Oh, yes, obviously, because finding something completely unique to a killer is just a ‘small part’ in comparison to, what? Knowing what shoe size they wear? Of course, I mean, how many people could possibly wear a size 11?” Price gesticulated wildly with his left hand, holding a martini in his right and not spilling a drop.

“Hey – enough work talk, please?” Beverly framed the command as a question, her body between the two being the only thing prevented a full-out brawl.

Will just laughed, his cheeks growing more red as he sucked the last of his beer from the bottle and held it up to ask for another. It was strange to see Will completely void of the tension that usually kept him strung tight like a bow string, and Hannibal stored it memory as best he could. The three across the booth could see it, too, and were kind enough to not point it out and embarrass Will. It was an unspoken agreement to just enjoy the night.

“Humph. Fine then. How about a little Truth-Or-Truth, huh?” Price suggested.

“What’s wrong with Truth-Or-Dare?” Zeller asked in a half-hearted attempt to keep the argument going.

“Oh, my god, I just—“ Beverly mimed grabbing their heads and knocking them together, which earned another laugh from Will.

“Perhaps a simple sharing exercise; everyone admits something about themselves that others would not expect?” Hannibal said. Zeller rolled his eyes, but Beverly’s lit up at the idea.

“Only if you go first,” she said.

“I can agree to that,” Hannibal said. He could feel all eyes in the booth on him and took note of Will’s slight grin. “Something about me you would not expect is that I happen to be quite fond of surfboarding.”

“No way!” Beverly slammed her hand on the table as Price’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. Will laughed again and Hannibal collected each laugh like it was a rare gem.

As they went around the table, they learned that Zeller had gone to Fat Camp at 11-years-old, Beverly had lit her first violin on fire in protest to the lessons she had been forced into (“I had a pyro thing back then”), and Price had been going for a theatre major before switching into forensics – even going as far as performing a monologue from Faust, bowing to the applause of the table. Hannibal had to admit it was perfect, word-for-word.

Now, it was Will’s turn to share. He took a swig of his fourth beer of the night.

“In college, there was this girl I liked—“ Hannibal’s grip on his glass tightened for a moment “—and she was big into, uh, hippy stuff. Y’know, she had the beads in her window and wore a flower tucked above her ear.” Will closed his eyes and smiled.

“That better not be your secret,” Price said.

“No,” Will laughed. “No, uh, so anyway – she was a flower child. She was into Buddhism and did yoga and… belly dancing. So, to impress her…” he trailed off, rolling a hand in the air to indicate what went unsaid. Hannibal’s lips quirked up at the edges.

“Are you telling me that you took belly dancing classes?” Beverly’s mouth fell open. Will nodded, flush from embarrassment but drunk enough to not be bothered by it.

“For how long?” Price asked.

“Uh, well… a year?” Will admitted.

Price threw his hands up in mock-surrender while Zeller silent plotted how to use this information. Hannibal took a sip of his water.

“Okay,” Beverly sat back, “You can’t just say these things without proving it.”

Will scrunched up his nose and shook his head, but Beverly saw the lack of conviction in the action.

“Nuh-uh, this is happening. Show me that those hips don’t lie!” She said, knowing Will would acquiesce with enough pressure.

“Come on, Will!” Price added.

Hannibal couldn’t hide his surprise at the small nod that broke into a toothy smile as Will stood, the other side of the booth clapping. Hannibal had to slide out of the booth for Will to get out and took the opportunity to brush a hand over the small of Will’s back. Will turned his head slightly as Hannibal sat back down, acknowledging the touch but saying nothing. Still, his smile didn’t falter. Beverly snatched the phone that Zeller was trying to hide under the table. Price gave a wolf-whistle.

And then Will moved his hips.

Hannibal focused on nothing else.

Will started with a basic figure-eight movement, jutting out his left hip before swinging his hips back and to the right, moving the right hip forward. His eyes were closed in concentration, alcohol not helping his coordination, but a grin was still plastered to his face. After completing a few figure-eights, Will switched to lifting up each hip bone for a few beats, placing the corresponding leg forward to shake that hip towards the table. Hannibal could practically hear the jingling the belly dancing chain would make and let himself imagine Will in his youth, clean-shaven and slim as he struggled to control his body movements.

“I don’t know if I can even do this one anymore, I don’t really have the, uh, abs for it,” Will laughed, lifting his shirt up in a moment of uninhibited joy. Even through the slight paunch that comes with age, it was clear that Will was pushing his abs in and out in order to make his belly roll. Hannibal’s eye caught on the dark trail of hair leading from Will’s bellybutton to the buckle of his belt.

Quickly, Will shoved his shirt back down and curtsied. Beverly screeched as she clapped, elbowing a sulking Zeller into joining in the applause. Price fanned himself as he shouted ‘Bravo!’ over and over. Hannibal simply clapped, never taking his eyes off of Will. Will’s neck and cheeks ran pink and Hannibal imagined that blush lighting up the belly he had just seen, colouring the pale expanse of flesh.

Will took one last bow before walking back to his side of the booth. Hannibal didn’t move.

“Move over so I can sit down,” Will said, his voice light.

“I do believe this is still my seat,” Hannibal said, sipping his water while keeping his eyes on Will.

“Are you gonna take that, Graham?” Beverly asked. Will looked to her, then back to Hannibal. They made eye contact.

“If you don’t move, I’m just gonna climb over you,” Will said. It was a challenge, but there was something else in his eyes and Hannibal locked onto it.

“What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?” Hannibal asked. He returned his glass to the table and placed his hands on his thighs. An acceptance of the challenge.

“I warned you,” Will said, his knee finding contact with the few inches of bench next to Hannibal’s lap. He swung his other leg over carefully until his other knee landed next to Hannibal’s thigh, leaving Will straddling Hannibal. He looked back over his shoulder at the three scientists, but they were back in their original argument and, when he faced forward, Will found himself caught in Hannibal’s line of sight. The shift in mood showed on Will’s face, the pink cheeks staying bright as his smile collapsed into a thin line. It was a moment of sobriety, the effects of the alcohol in his system freezing for the time being. Hannibal moved his fingers up just enough to brush the inside of Will’s thighs, his eyes piercing into Will’s but his face showing no acknowledgement of the touch. Will jerked his head away as he pulled his leg over, tumbling back into his original seat.

The other side of the booth hadn’t seen the touch, the table too high and their own conversation keeping them focused on each other. Hannibal turned his head to look at Will, but Will had his head down, his own fingernails seemingly more important at the moment. The blush was still there on his neck.

“It’s getting late, is it not?” Hannibal asked the whole table.

“I guess,” Beverly replied.

“William, can I offer you a ride home?” Hannibal turned back to Will, head still down. “Or would you rather stay?”

“We’re all gonna call a cab later, so you can share,” Beverly offered. Will lifted his head to look at Beverly before turning to look at Hannibal’s shoulder.

“No, I – thanks, but I’ll, uh, go with Doct-,” he paused, “Hannibal.”

The smile spread across Hannibal’s face like the sun rises.


	2. Chapter 2

It was silent as they walked to Hannibal’s Bentley, silent as they got it, and silent as they drove through the empty city. Will kept his eyes trained on the world outside the car, refusing to discuss the touch and subsequent tension between them. Hannibal, on the other hand, was as calm as always. He had a plan.

As they left the city and entered longer stretches of road with buildings appearing less frequently, Hannibal struck.

“Which way do we go, Will?” he asked.

Will turned towards the first noise between them, brows furrowed together but eyes avoiding Hannibal.

“… what do you mean?”

The car came to a stop at a four-way intersection. The roads were empty but them, the city an orange glow behind. Hannibal twisted in his seat until he faced Will.

“If I continue straight, I will bring you to your home and bid you goodnight. However,” he paused to place a hand on Will’s cheek, turning his face until their eyes met. “If I turn left here, we will go to my home. Do you understand?”

It was an opportunity to say no, likely the only one offered for the rest of the night. Will was shaking slightly, but he was flush, too, and Hannibal suspected it was more than fear that shook him.

Slowly, so slowly, Will raised his chin and dropped it. He understood.

“So, I will ask you again, which way do we go?”

“Left.”

Hannibal smiled, releasing Will’s face from both points of contact, and flicked on the turning signal.

*

The rest of the drive was as quiet as before, but there was a charge in the air now; a promise of something.

They pulled in front of Hannibal’s house and he got out, walking to his front door without waiting for Will. Unlocking the door, he smiled at the sound of the car opening and closing.

Will stopped just behind Hannibal. His breathing was quick, producing little puffs of fog in the cold air. Hannibal could smell the sweat already blooming on the profiler’s skin, imagined how it would taste and gave a low hum.

Finally he pushed the door open, holding it for Will to enter. As soon as he closed it, twisting the lock in place, Hannibal slid himself behind Will. The younger man let out a small ‘oh’ and shivered as Hannibal nuzzled into the spot behind his ear, breathing deeply. His mouth found its way to lobe, sucking gently.

“What happened to the girl,” Hannibal asked, though it sounded more like a threat than a question. He gave Will a moment to sift through the mist of arousal to think properly.

“What girl?” he finally asked, genuine confusion in his voice. He was pushing back into Hannibal, his hands grasping behind for something to touch.

Hannibal nipped gently at the top of Will’s ear, earning a shocked intake of breath.

“The girl from college,” he clarified, licking the red mark of the bite. He wrapped his arms around Will, sliding a hand under his shirt to rest against his stomach. He felt the skin there tighten before he heard Will laugh.

“She, uh, didn’t know I existed.” Another rough laugh and Hannibal pulled will even closer. “Honestly, it’s what I expected,” he finished, face pulled back into a smile that looked more like a grimace.

Hannibal couldn’t stand self-deprecation but Will, as always, was the exception. He imagined Will in college, inexperienced when it came to controlling his own mind. Hannibal could see a young man hidden under layers of clothes in an attempt to escape the scrutiny of those who didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.

Hannibal was here now, pressing against the man, wanting to see all of him, already understanding Will more than he knew. And Hannibal couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt at knowing the girl never had the chance to see Will dance.

“You dance well,” he said, and Will tensed under his hands once more. The flesh of his stomach burned with embarrassment that matched the blush of his cheeks and Hannibal turned Will to face him.

Will avoided Hannibal’s eyes, which Hannibal would allow for now, but didn’t shy away from the closeness. He shivered with adrenaline, blood running through his veins and pulsing in his neck. Hannibal ducked his head to kiss Will’s cheek, feeling the man’s lashes as he closed his eyes. Moving his mouth downward, Hannibal met Will’s mouth with his own in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Hannibal thought of Will as an abused animal when it came to intimacy – kicked one too many times, but still willing to open itself up to receive the love it craved. It wouldn’t do well to push too hard, too soon.

He slid a hand up Will’s torso as Will kissed back, earning a gasp as he brushed a thumb over a sensitive nipple.

“Hannibal…” Will whined, pulling his face away to bury it in the older man’s neck. He pushed his hips against Hannibal’s, his erection hard and warm as it strained in his jeans.

“My sweet Will,” Hannibal responded, pressing one hand on the back of Will’s head as the other dipped between them. It brushed the trail of hair on Will’s belly before working open the man’s belt. A rush of hot breath hit Hannibal’s neck and he pet the dark curls under his hand. “Shall we go upstairs?”

Will’s body shook, but he nodded against Hannibal as he pushed his hips forward again. Hannibal stepped away to look at the man in front of him. Hands were balled into fists at Will’s sides, his belt hanging loose and inviting. His eyes were shut tight and his entire body was vibrating almost imperceptibly. Cheeks and neck were flushed, blood pumping so hard that Will could hear it in his ears.

It was beautiful and Hannibal knew he would sketch it tomorrow morning, leaving Will to sleep as he drew.

For now, he was satisfied to simply look before beginning up the stairs. He trusted Will to follow and was surprised to feel a hand reach out to his own and squeeze. Hannibal wanted to turn and look at this Will, the Will that took what it wanted, but he was content to instead lead Will to his bedroom.

Once they crossed the threshold, Will let go and latched himself to Hannibal, just embracing the other man from behind. Eventually, both hands found their way to the top button of Hannibal’s waistcoat and worked it open, trailing steadily downwards until the hands reached up to pull the garment off Hannibal’s shoulders. The hands returned to start on Hannibal’s trousers.

In response, Hannibal twisted in Will’s loose embrace, pushing the smaller man back against the bedroom door and connecting their lips once more. The kiss was more insistent than the first, Hannibal’s tongue pushing against the slick hardness of Will’s teeth until he finally opened his mouth in a low moan.

Hannibal worked open the button and zipper of Will’s jeans, shoving the fabric down roughly and eliciting another moan from Will. Deepening the kiss, Hannibal slid a finger between the waistband of the boxers and Will’s skin. A tremor shook the man and made him breathe hard into Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal responded by biting on Will’s lower lip before sucking it gently, brushing the younger man’s erection as he pulled the boxers down to join the jeans that bunched just below Will’s knees.

“H-Hannibal,” Will stuttered out, reclaiming his lip in the process.

Hannibal pressed a quick kiss against the swollen mouth in front of him before dropping to his knees.

“Christ, Hannibal…” Will threw his head back against the door as Hannibal kissed his stomach.

Nuzzling into the flesh, Hannibal trailed open-mouthed kisses across Will’s belly, biting gently in some spots before laving over them with his tongue. Will’s erection jumped at each kiss.

At last, Hannibal made his way down and sucked gently at the base of Will’s cock.

There was a sound of fabric rustling as Will threw an arm across his eyes, a low noise tearing out of his throat at the warmth of Hannibal’s mouth.

“Will, I want you to look at me,” Hannibal said, running his hands up Will’s thighs to meet on his hip bones.

Will shook his head, eyes still covered.

Hannibal tightened his grip and Will thrust forward, a small moan tumbling out of his mouth.

“Please, Hannibal,” he begged, his voice wavering as if he was on the verge of tears.

One of Hannibal’s hands moved upward to rub at Will’s stomach gently, easing the tension there.

“Will.”

Will’s free hand met Hannibal’s on his stomach.

“Will.”

A pant from above as Will strained his hips forward, but Hannibal’s hand on his hip kept any contact with his cock impossible. The grip tightened again and Will moaned.

“Will.” It was a third and final warning.

Will’s arm dropped, free hand meeting the one gripping his hip. He looked down at Hannibal, kneeling and looking back, inches away from his cock.

Without looking away, Hannibal licked his lips and moved forward, taking the head into his mouth and sucking gently. He pulled back and sucked again, taking another inch into his mouth. He repeated this pattern, sucking more of Will’s cock into his mouth until the younger man was completely buried in that wet, slick heat. Their eyes never wavered.

“Hannibal,” Will whispered, voice hoarse from desire. His hands left Hannibal’s and reached forward, grasping his head lightly and just existing there.

Hannibal’s grip on his hip eased as that hand met his other on Will’s belly, squeezing gently and massaging the muscles there. His tongue pushed hard on the underside of Will’s cock, running up until it pressed against the frenulum. Will surged forward, his fingers twitching on Hannibal’s temples.

“I’m gonna—“ he started.

Hannibal pulled off. Will shut his mouth and clenched his jaw, humming low and hard as he fought against orgasm.

“Not yet,” Hannibal stated, his hands grasping the bottom of Will’s shirt. He stood, pulling the shirt up and off. He found Will’s mouth and kissed, feeling the man’s jaw loosen as he opened up to Hannibal. His tongue slid in easily and Will moaned, arms wrapping around Hannibal’s neck as he kissed back eagerly. Hannibal broke the kiss first, moving away from the door to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

“I’m not—I haven’t before,” Will blurted out.

Hannibal looked at him before realizing what Will was saying. Then, he smiled.

“I don’t plan on that tonight, unless you want to,” he said. Will shook his head, curls bouncing, and Hannibal nodded as he undid his cuffs and slid his shirt off.

Will swallowed hard before following suit, toeing off his shoes and stepping out of the bundle of fabric at his feet. He looked at Hannibal, shirtless yet still composed despite the situation. Stepping forward, he reached for the older man’s trousers once more.

“Let me,” he offered, getting to his knees, but Hannibal pulled him up again.

“Get on the bed,” Hannibal said, voice low and controlled.

Will nodded and moved to the plush, king-sized bed. He pulled the dark-red comforter away to reveal pure white sheets.

“Lie down on your back,” Hannibal said.

Will did as he was told and looked to Hannibal, who was completely naked now. Will felt his cheeks burning, embarrassed by the intimacy of the moment, of being in Hannibal’s bed with the man himself waiting for him. He never thought this moment would come about, though he’d fantasized about it enough.

That touch in the bar, the confirmation that Hannibal felt something, too, was almost too much. It was overloading Will’s senses.

“What are you thinking?” Hannibal asked, stalking forward until he towered over Will.

“It’s—this, it’s—“ Will stumbled on his words, groaning before closing his eyes and reaching for Hannibal.

Hannibal obliged, crawling onto the bed and over Will, kissing the younger man’s neck as he ground their hips together. Will moaned, rising upward until his cock found friction against Hannibal’s.

“Tell me,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s pulse, sucking hard.

“I’ve wanted this,” Will managed to say as Hannibal thrust steadily against his cock. Hannibal hummed in agreement and Will adjusted his hips, thrusting up in rhythm.

Hannibal braced himself on one arm and reached between them with the other, making a loose fist around both their cocks and stroking quickly.

“Open your eyes, Will,” he said. Will did, meeting Hannibal’s with wide-eyed reverence.

“Han—“ Will cut off his own words with a low cry, almost a scream, as he came hard against his own stomach. Hannibal didn’t stop stroking, Will’s come wetting his grip and quickening his pace. Will moaned through the aftershocks of his orgasm, muscles twitching as he reached for Hannibal’s face and rose up to kiss him.

Hannibal let go of Will’s cock, stroking himself harder as he kissed Will into the mattress, never letting up until Will felt Hannibal spill onto his stomach as well. Even then, Hannibal continued kissing the younger man, sucking on his tongue and lower lip.

Finally, Hannibal leaned back on his knees and looked down at his work. Will was pleasantly dishevelled, a red flush travelling from his belly to his cheeks and contrasting with the whiteness of their come and the sheets. His eyes were open but heavily lidded, exhausted and ready for sleep.

Quietly, Hannibal got off the bed and padded to the bathroom. He wet a towel and returned to Will, cleaning him gently as the other man looked away, squirming at the touch. Satisfied, he placed the cloth in the laundry hamper and climbed into bed, facing Will’s back but giving him a few inches of space.

“Goodnight, Will,” he said.

Will didn’t respond, but he moved back until he was flush against Hannibal. Hannibal tucked his nose into Will’s hair, breathing deeply as he tangled himself in Will’s limbs.

It was important not to push too hard, but it was equally important to let Will come to him.

*

A few days later, Will was working through a crime scene. Hannibal had been there earlier, but had left due to pressing appointments. They hadn’t spoken much since that night and, though Will knew the man was busy and not ignoring him, he couldn’t help but worry.

Deciding there was nothing more he could learn today, he walked back to his car. As he opened the door, he noticed a small box on his seat and a note attached, written in Hannibal Lecter’s very distinct handwriting.

_‘Dear Will,_

_I hope you can join me for dinner tonight._

_HL’_

The box was plain and white, reminiscent of a jewelry box, and he pulled the top off. He recognized the item inside and felt a familiar heat curl in his belly as his cheeks burned.

It was a silver belly-dancing chain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaHAHAHAH WHAT  
> sorry it's not beta'd so there might be inconsistencies, feel free to point them out so i can fix them.
> 
> also, what's with that ending?? maybe there could be a PART 3? OR A SEQUEL?  
> maybe.
> 
> http://beastheads.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> heheheueheuheuehHEUHEUEHEUEHEU my first fic kill me, i am a gosh-diddly-darned creative writing major and i am 21 and i have never written a fic even though i've been reading it for over a decade
> 
> do you hear that? it is the sound of my cherry poppin' like POP POP
> 
> also you can follow me on tumblr: http://beastheads.tumblr.com/


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